Junhong is what you would call normal. He doesn’t stand out, if it weren’t for him being abnormally tall for his age. He didn’t look that special either. He had a handsomely cute young face people would usually ignore, but he had a lanky stature to match. He was pretty awkward and silent for most part; to the point the people think he was stupid. He’d like to think he was not. Since he does think of plenty things. He thought of things full of substance and not things that concern sneaking out during class to chug down a bottle of liquor.

 

            He doesn’t particularly care about being bumped in the way to the classroom or being pushed right in front of the door as if he was invisible. It was all bearable. His life was a cycle; a bit tedious, a bit boring and tiring, but it’s nothing Junhong couldn’t handle.

 

            There’s no escape from typical teenage dilemmas my friends, and this was probably how he dealt with it. At least that’s what most “Understanding 15-18 Year Olds” books say so.

 

 

 

Case#1 - Choi Junhong

 

 

 

            Junhong couldn’t stop looking----absorbing the beauty of the dancing lights in front of him. The fire’s light reflects on his eyes, making his blank brown eyes full with its bright reds, oranges and yellows. It was spring time that day of the year, but it was stuffily hot. Although to him, its heat was comforting.

 

 

            A shrill scream tears through the air just as he comes to feel a hissing pain on his wrist. This makes him snap out from his trance, and he realizes that crap, he’s probably going to get for this.

 

 

            From afar, there are a couple of his classmates warning him and yelling at him to go away before he gets burnt alive. He considers running toward their direction, but he hears the stern voice of none other than his principal. A fire truck’s siren follows.

 

            Erasing all other options that actually made sense from his head, he runs to the other way. He runs as fast as his thin and non-athletic limbs could manage, dodging the ever-growing flame by just a little. He was jumping over obstacles and bearing through the pain for the sake of not getting into the principal’s office and not having his parents called to school.

 

            He’s losing his breath, and the smoke is the only thing he was inhaling. The whole building was stuffed in the black clouds, he can barely even see anymore. He speeds down the flight of stairs, conscious of not tripping over himself and falling all the way down.

 

            He finally reaches the door and he frantically feels for the doorknob. He turns it around and pushes himself outside, relief bubbling within him as he breathes in fresh air. The panic of the students and faculty, as well as the water gushing from the firemen’s hose was still ringing in his ears. Everything starts to fade. His sight is blurred.

 

            He sees the vague features of the principal, along with some other authorities. But he’s not so sure.

 

            Oh , was the last thing he thought of before falling to the ground.

 

 

           

 

 

 

           

 

            He wakes up in the school nurse’s care. He was still dressed in his dirty uniform. It was turning black and torn and burnt, which was his fault anyway. His wounds and burns are already carefully treated, thankfully.

 

            Worried, he asks if anyone else was hurt. The nurse replies “Just one person besides you.”

 

            Junhong feels a pang of guilt. The guilt was heavy on his chest; he almost wanted to ask who it was. But the feeling doesn’t last long because the nurse tells him it’s fine for him to start walking to the entrance of the school; his parents were waiting there. Classes were dismissed early that day due to Junhong’s big stunt, so all the kids have gone home with their families. Junhong gives her a polite nod, and mumbles a thank you.

 

            “Oh, but before I forget, I heard that the principal wanted to call you to his office. Be sure to drop by before you leave.” She tells him.

 

            Junhong sighs. This was going to be nothing short of a pain in the .

 

 

 

 

 

            It was impossible to play it off as if it were an accident. He had the matchbox in his hand. The matchbox he had stolen, mind you. (The way he worded it in his head made him feel too bad. Let’s just say he borrowed it without permission, yes?)

 

            He barely listened as the fat old man on the desk in front of him spoke.

 

            “You’ve risked many of lives, including yours!”

 

            “Just because this is your first time, it doesn’t mean I will turn a blind-eye to your misbehavior, Junhong. You’ve had quite a record of these ‘accidents’.”

 

            Junhong promptly wonders what he could’ve meant by that. Then, he remembers some cases a few years ago of him burning property----whether his or not----just not in school. It wasn’t such a secret, well, not anymore. He knows how rumors start. Soon, the whole school will be spreading it----except this time, it’s a rumor that’s true.

 

            “I worry about you, Junhong. It hurts me to have to take you out from the honor roll, but I have to.” The principal says. “And you’ll have to attend detention every after class.”

 

            Getting in trouble really . He’d overhear some boys and girls talking about how they’ve been caught having in the library or so, but Junhong’s sure the punishment wasn’t as bad as this. It’s not that Junhong denies anything. He admits his own fault. He just wishes he hadn’t done it in the first place. Maybe I am stupid.

 

            “I called your parents in, and we’re going to talk about this, alright? You won’t get better if we all don’t work together. It’s a collaborated effort.” The principal takes out a piece of paper from under his desk. “Plus, your family might have to chip in for the damage you’ve caused.”

 

            Junhong read the text on the paper.  ₩18,000,000

 

            Well .

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Surprisingly, his parents were more of scared and sad than they were angry with him. Actually, the whole duration of supper consisted of his parents telling him they’re ‘concerned’ and asking Junhong to speak about all his feelings. He didn’t have a clue what they meant. He wasn’t miserable per se; he hadn’t felt extremely bad since his dog, Brownie, got killed on the road when he was 10.

 

            Tired of his parents’ interrogation, he excuses himself from the dinner table. He leaves a plate of unfinished mashed potatoes and peas, and heads upstairs to his room.

 

            His parents share a worried look on their faces, but there’s really nothing they can do. By the time Junhong enters his room, he falls asleep on his bed right away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Junhong attends his first so-called ‘detention’ the next day, excited only because he wanted escape the judging stares from his classmates. He’s technically late, but no one’s there yet. The teacher sitting alone, who he recognizes as Ms. Song, smiles and tells him to sit and wait. So he awkwardly shuffles to an empty seat and settles down on it.

 

            “I apologize, dear. But we can’t start without the rest.” She says.

 

            Junhong finds it quite odd that detention worked that way. “But isn’t this just detention?” He asks once he’s found his voice.

 

            Ms. Song had a solemn look on her face. “Yes, but… I’d like to help you kids too.” Ms. Song was sincere. For that, Junhong smiles back at her.

 

            Suddenly, the door flies open and there’s noisy shouting all over the place. One of them rushes to a seat next to Junhong, loudly laughing as he did. The other wasn’t happy, though. He kicks the wall, causing a vase to topple on the floor. “Kim Himchan, give it back!” He yells.

 

            The brunette next to Junhong----Himchan----rolls his eyes and tosses something at the boy by the door.

 

            He looked pretty. For a dude, anyway. His features were delicate and for some reason, he was wearing eyeliner. It’s a fashion thing, Junhong guesses. Because what actual guy wears that stuff? The other guy on the other hand, seemed like the epitome of masculinity---or that could be an effect of his temper. He had a simple tattoo on his arm, the sleeves of his uniform rolled up from his biceps. He’s still mad at Himchan, who in turn had a sly smile on his thin lips. Junhong couldn’t quite see what Himchan returned to him, but it looks like some sort of key. A locker key, possibly.

 

            “Not too loud, you two.” Ms. Song sighs. “Care to take a seat Yongguk?”

 

            Yongguk slams the door shut in response. ‘Not too loud’, she says. He trudges to the front of the classroom, stopping right in front of Junhong. “The ’s that?”

           

            He was motioning to Junhong and well, Junhong was scared, to say the least. In all of the short conversations he’s had with his schoolmates, this guy won the award of the most threatening.

 

            “Don’t raise your voice.” Ms. Song reminds him.

 

            “He’s Choi Junhong.” Himchan replies, flashing a cheeky smile at Junhong. “Didn’t you hear about him? What kind of a gang leader is someone who can’t see a ‘badass’ when he sees one?”

 

            Junhong inwardly groans. He just knew such a story would get to the upper years. His freshman year was already starting collapse as we speak.

 

            Yongguk, who was relatively calm now, and whose interest was piqued, takes the seat next to Himchan. “Yeah, well, what’s his deal?”

 

            “For starters,” Himchan begins. “He almost burned down the school.”

 

            “I----” Junhong wanted to explain, even though there should be nothing to explain. It really was in his intention to set something----anything----on fire. Just not for anyone to get hurt. He didn’t want anyone to misunderstand his actions.

 

            “Woah. Holy , that was you?” Yongguk was wearing a grin on his face now. It wasn’t quite as sweet as Ms. Song’s, but hey, it was better than having the guy explode.

 

            “Well----”

 

            “Mhm. I heard he used gas and a lighter and all that . Pretty hardcore, huh?” Junhong is once again cut off, this time by Himchan. The said boy turns to wink at the desperately puzzled Junhong.

 

            The conversation is put to a temporary halt by the sound of the door opening. Two of them who enter were about a year younger than Yongguk and Himchan, while the other was a year above Junhong. Junhong could tell because he’s seen him before. Said guy had something wrapped around his left arm.

 

            “Hey, Jonguppie! It’s the guy who burnt you!” Himchan announces, sounding too cheerful.

 

            Oh, Junhong thinks, his gaze lingering on the short boy who made his way to sit behind Yongguk. So he’s the one Junhong hurt. Junhong wanted to apologize, but he decides now wasn’t the time to. He won’t do it while everyone here is prone to make fun of him or whatever.

 

            Moon Jongup. The name sounds really familiar to him. Junhong couldn’t tear his eyes from the bandages on the guy. Nevertheless, he felt awful.

 

 

 

            One of them wore a black mask on the lower half of his face, and wore a black jacket over his school uniform. It was strange to be all covered up like that. He seemed to be good-looking too, so what a waste to hide it all from people’s eyes. But then again, what hasn’t Junhong experienced these past few days? He claims the chair behind Junhong, and the other sits behind Himchan.

 

            “Sorry we’re five minutes late, Ms. Song.” The other says. The masked boy beside him snickers.

 

            “Try an hour late, Youngjae.” She replies. Ms. Song was a sassy teacher, not like any other teacher in the school. Maybe that’s why she was well-liked. “And Daehyun, get that ridiculous mask off your face, please?”

 

            Daehyun shakes his head from left to right as a no. Ms. Song shrugs. Let him look stupid if he wants to; that’s what she’s probably thinking. Daehyun grins behind his mask at this. “It’s just that you might get blinded by my beauty, Ms. Song. Safety measures.”

 

            He hears Himchan scoff. “Excuse me, but I’m sure we’ll all agree that I’m more beautiful than you.” Himchan butts in with a cocky smile on his face. Youngjae laughs, earning a glare from Daehyun. As this happens, Junhong does nothing but watch and let’s say, observe. Junhong was not a talker, and by the looks of it, neither was Jongup. Jongup sits silently on the other side, like he was doing so right now.

 

            “You’re only ‘beautiful’ when you’re bouncing on a .” Yongguk replies.

 

            “Ooh, burn.” Youngjae lifts a finger to poke Himchan and makes a sizzling noise. (Junhong doesn’t really find that bit funny, and you can guess why.) Himchan has obviously lost, so he turns around in shame. “Oh, you.” He mutters to Yongguk.

 

            Yongguk chuckles. “You wish.”

 

 

 

 

            “Alright! That’s enough, boys.” Ms. Song waves a paper in the air to catch everybody’s attention. “Let’s take attendance.”

 

            Ms. Song flattens out the sheet of paper on her desk. She pushes her glasses up and begins to read each name.

 

            “Bang Yongguk.”

 

            “Here.”

 

            “Choi Junhong.”

 

            Junhong’s head shoots up, pulling him away from his thoughts. “H-Here!”

 

            “Jung Daehyun.”

 

            “Here.” Daehyun replies, before leaning to tap Junhong on his shoulder. Junhong turns his head a little, just enough to see the elder.

 

            “What exactly did you do to get here, pyromaniac? You don’t seem like the type.” He whispers.

 

            “Um, well, I set my classroom on fire, I guess…?” Junhong replies. He clears his throat to try to speak better. “And some other stuff. Outside of school. Yeah…”

 

            “Do you have a speech impediment?”  Youngjae joins in.

 

            “Uh, no I don’t---”

 

            “And why are you so ing tall? You’re a first year!”

 

            “Is it the genes?”

 

 

 

            Daehyun and Youngjae were bombarding the poor boy with questions he’d be much more comfortable answering one by one. And Junhong doesn’t even have a clue what Daehyun and Youngjae were like.

 

            “Oh, I see.” Daehyun and Youngjae both nod thoughtfully. Junhong suppresses a laugh----the two were like twins of each other. Well, twins who didn’t look like each other. To him, they give the impression of being each other’s other half, as cheesy as it sounded

 

            “You know why I’m here?” Daehyun asks him. Junhong shakes his head. “Why?”

 

            “I’m a thief.” He simply replies. He holds up his hand and to Junhong’s surprise----his wristwatch was in his hand. Junhong checks his wrist again, and sure enough, it wasn’t there. Daehyun returns it back to him, amused. “I actually get to steal lots of goodies----money, jewelry and all. Youngjae on the other hand is a drug addict.”

 

            “Am not. I sell them.” Youngjae corrects him. “I’m actually filthy rich and I’m not using any of the I sell because it can actually you up pretty bad. It’s a great deal, really.”

 

            “What about Jongup?” Junhong inquires in pure curiosity. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly so concerned with this Moon Jongup, he just was.

 

            “Jongup looks like a nice kid, right?”

 

            Junhong opens his mouth to say yes, but Youngjae is fast to continue. “Wrong. If you get him angry, he won’t hesitate to smack you on the head. Repeatedly.” He makes a mock motion of hitting Junhong on the head, and Junhong flinches.

 

            “He’s actually gentle most of the times. It’s just that when there’s brawl, he’ll show no mercy. I think some people have died because of him.” Daehyun further explains. “Talk about bludgeoning.”

 

            “Heard he broke some guy’s .” Youngjae adds.

 

            Ouch, Junhong thinks. He never would have thought someone with the likes of Moon Jongup----quiet, gentle and always smiling would ever be capable of even hurting a fly, much less hurt a person’s reproductive organ.

 

            “As for Himchan, well, he’s -crazed. Girls or boys, I don’t think he actually cares.” Youngjae says, before mumbling ‘but I think he’s more into boys’.

           

            Perhaps that’s why he wore eyeliner.

 

            “He told me he had with his algebra teacher to get higher grades. I think that’s the only reason he gets higher grades than Yongguk.”

 

            “No way. We have the same algebra teacher.” Youngjae gasps in disbelief.

 

            “He didn’t tell you?”

 

            “No!”

 

            “, just forget I told you.” Daehyun smacks Youngjae on his head and the latter yelps in pain. “Anyway, Yongguk is a part of a gang. He’s the leader of it, as far as we know. They break and fight with other gangs like it’s nobody’s business. I don’t think anyone in his gang actually knows he’s just 17. I think it’s because Yongguk is mature. It’s actually really dangerous, Yongguk could be a target of an opponent gang and he could die.”

 

           

 

            “Oh. Uh. Well, you guys are…” Junhong searches for the right word.

 

            “ed up? Screwed? Insane?” Daehyun suggests. Truth be told, those were absolutely right. And starting today, Junhong was one of them. He’s one of the ed up, screwed, and insane students of this high school.

 

            “Yeah. We are.” Youngjae says in reply to Junhong’s silent agreement. “But each other’s the closest thing we have to being loved, I guess.” He was smiling now, and so was Daehyun.

 

            Junhong, despite the strange want for fire everywhere, lived a normal life with a normal family and normal grades. He was more than lucky. He doesn’t exactly know what they’re going through. Yet, hearing such words leave Youngjae’s lips caused a sting to his young and inexperienced heart. Because, hell, what does Junhong know of the hardships of the world? Little.

 

            Looking at these people’s smiles, no matter how wide, Junhong could see the pain. It’s not necessarily something you can hide. Not to Junhong at least. He had the power of perception. He longs to somehow lift the pressure off of their shoulders. They were too young to be living like such. Even though Junhong was younger, they were all, by heart, just kids beginning to learn how to navigate the world.

 

            “Daehyun, Youngjae and Junhong, care to tell the rest of us what you’re talking about there?”

 

            Ms. Song, as well as the rest of the students’ eyes fell on the three. Youngjae raises his hand. “We’re talking about Himchan and that he would probably want to get in your skirt.”

 

            They all crack up, including Ms. Song. Junhong laughs with them the first time that day. “Well, you’re not my type, Himchan.” Ms. Song jokes, patting off dust from her skirt.

 

            Himchan grins. “It’s fine. I prefer to bottom.” He replies unabashedly.

 

            The class erupts with sounds of disgust.

 

            “Hyung, we’ve got a fetus over here. Please be sensitive.” Daehyun motions to Junhong.

 

            “Aw, just for your innocence, I’ll be PG-13 for today.” Himchan leans to try to kiss Junhong’s cheek, but he’s obviously rejected because he scoots away. It makes him pout a little as Junhong is a cute little baby and there’s nothing wrong with a little peck. But he shrugs. Maybe it’s a tad weird to be making a move on a freshman kid you’ve just met.

 

             “You’re not as cute, but you will have to do.” Himchan quickly places a kiss on Yongguk’s cheek, and then he giggles.

 

            It makes Junhong wonder why Yongguk isn’t angry this time. In fact, now he’s… blushing?

 

            “ you, Himchan.” Yongguk says.

 

            “Indeed~” Himchan hums.

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            How little or how much can you know about someone by a first meeting?

 

 

 

 

            Something tells Junhong that even with the information Daehyun and Youngjae gave him; he still has no clue about these guys. He doesn’t mind. All Junhong settles to be for now is a shoulder to cry on. That is, if he grows out of his awkward shell and is finally able to have decent conversations with each one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

            Ms. Song dismisses them a good four hours and thirty minutes of merely talking later. (Talking isn’t a skill Junhong was good at.) They bid her goodbye, and they leave as a group. Junhong was like a fish out of water. The rest were walking side by side and laughing, it was kind of like a scene from a clichéd slice-of-life friendship movie.

 

            Junhong questions whether or not he should go approach him, but he goes to walk to the complete opposite direction, much in typical Junhong-fashion. He tends to avoid socializing, as much as possible. He doesn’t think it was much of a problem, but his parents apparently do.

 

            Clumsy as he is, he bumps into a much burlier upperclassman, who in turn roughly pushes him away. Junhong timidly apologizes over and over, but the guy just sneers and spits on his shoe.

 

            “S-Sorry.” His voice was shivering now. He was frightened. He’s had his taste of bullying, but not like this.

 

            “Are you scared, huh? I should be scared. Because your puny and psycho might set me on fire.” He pushes Junhong against the hard wall, the latter hissing in pain when he feels a dull pain on his skinny back.

 

            “Don’t get in my way, freshman.” He’s holding Junhong by the collar and Junhong might have considered holding in the tears, but he’s not as manly as he’d liked to be, so he doesn’t.

 

 

 

 

            “Is this yours by any chance?”

 

 

 

 

            The bully dude turns around, only to be greeted by a very painful-looking strike. He falls to the ground, hitting his head on the wall in the process. There’s Yongguk standing proudly in front of him, cracking his knuckles after delivering a punch. Daehyun’s there too, mischievously holding up a wallet----which is owned by the guy whom Yongguk had just knocked down.

 

            Himchan is worrying and tending to Junhong, asking if he’s hurt anywhere. Meanwhile, Jongup looks like he was going to kill someone (not joking). Luckily, Youngjae was holding him back.

 

            “Hey, what year are you, punk?” Yongguk pulls him up by the hair so that they’re looking eye to eye. The guy looked pathetic, so to speak. For a big guy, he was trembling and near tears. It was a funny sight.

 

            “T-Third,” He croaks.

 

            “Oh, dude, really? Me too and I’ve never seen you before!” Youngjae laughs, somewhat loosening his hold on Jongup when he was calm enough.

 

            Daehyun laughs with him. “Same here!”

 

            “Keep quiet.” Yongguk hisses. And just like that, the two troublemakers immediately shut up.n “Alright, let me just warn you. I can’t hurt you more than this on school grounds. Believe it or not, I have my control too.”

 

            Yongguk points to Jongup. “But him? That small guy? He won’t hesitate to beat you to a pulp. Understood?”

 

            The still unknown student gulps and nods shakily.

 

            “Good, so now I don’t want to see you messing with any of my friends, got that?”

 

            “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He begs.

 

            “Okay. Scram.” Yongguk lets go of him, and at the same time, Daehyun throws back his wallet. The guy runs away in sheer fear, and well, the rest were celebrating.

 

            “Woah, Yongguk, you were pretty cool.” Himchan, who has finished putting bandages on Junhong, praises him. “And I could see that Daehyun didn’t want to return the wallet.”

 

            “Yeah well, the bully had lots of cash. Take from beating up other kids, I bet.” Daehyun shrugs.

 

            “You alright there, Junhong?” Youngjae asks, turning the attention to the victim of the previous incident. Junhong replies a meek ‘I’m fine’, however he wasn’t really heard. “I was so scared that Jongup would have killed that guy.” Youngjae goes on.

 

            They continue walking back, Junhong in tow. They can’t simply leave him behind, not what just happened. All the while, Junhong’s been trying to take a look at Jongup’s face. Why had he been so angry? And for him too?

 

            Junhong feels a match stick when he tucks his hand in his pants pocket. He pulls it out; thinking everyone else was consumed in chatting and well, fawning over Yongguk’s manly act. He looks at it, considering which part of the school would look pretty in flames.

 

            But Himchan puts his hand over his, smiling as he covers the match stick away. “Don’t you even think about it, kiddo.”

 

 

 

            And Junhong obeys.

 

 

            He flings it over his shoulder, letting Daehyun and Youngjae wrap an arm around his shoulders. It looks a bit awkward because of his height, but he was happy, so to speak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

----

A/N: OMg that was kinda long. i'm sorry!! it's like the first chapter and it's 4,000+ words WITH NO ROMANTIC FLUFF WHATSOEVER

if u spot any mistakes pls tell me because i didn't get to read through it again OTL

um

yeah

i'm a bit iffy about this but if you think it's worth continuing, please tell me as well ;v;